I mean…..damn. Damn it all to hell! Anyone who knows me knows that I run the same kind of tight ship with my yard/garden as I do with everything else in my life: the Kone, triathlons, work. Nothing
In the yard, this translates into a sterile, cookie-cutter approach. My intense focus on having the perfect lawn is legend. As is my love of begonias and other so-called “common” flowers - as I always say, “common” is just another word for success! So I strive for square layouts, sharp angles, everything edged to within an inch of its life. It’s just what I do. Oh, and no riotous color in my garden, no sirree. White is right, where the flowers are concerned.
So the fact that these noisy chirping
interlopers tend to congregate in my garden is an effrontery, to be sure. Here I am going for perfection in my neat, sterile little world, and yet, every time I look outside, someone else has come to call. And hang out, no less! This week, it’s the band of rose-breasted grosbeak hooligans, here for the 3rd year in a row. Apparently they like my place so much that it’s now a permanent stop on their migratory route. And the amount of Just because I have flowers that bees and butterflies flock to (Joe Pye weed, butterfly bush, bee balm, etc.), a birdbath, a couple of birdfeeders that somehow found their way back there (okay, there are 7) (those are the big ones – there a couple of tiny ones too) (the little ones don’t really count though), this invasion of nature and flora and fauna makes no sense. If someone can help me figure this out, please do.
It is truly a puzzle.
1 comment:
Careful, the IRS is likely to accuse you of running a farm or bird sanctuary. They will be hard pressed to believe that a place such as yours is not a huge draw for bird watchers and gardening enthusiasts. They will be turning your place upside down looking for the gift shop!
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